It Takes Three
by Amber Krueger
Summary: Amber, Tara and Hannah are best friends and roommates, trying to make it by... but when they start having weird dreams their lives begin to change drastically. Meanwhile, Freddy's plotting his revenge on the last to ruin his comeback.
1. Dreams

_Chapter I, Dreams_

Amber always had trouble sleeping; ever since she was little her grandmother had to give her a dose of Benadryl before bed so she would go to sleep with ease.

As an eighteen year old, working full time at McDonald's, sleep was the one thing she had to look forward to at the end of a long, greasy day. Though, even then, she found it difficult to go straight to sleep… no matter how tired she was.

It was 9:00 AM, and Amber's cell-phone alarm had gone off, her phone vibrating across the desk as it played a grating, repetitive chime. She hastily retorted, yanking her phone right from the charger in desperation to silence it. When she realized it was already five past nine, she wrestled herself free of her covers and out of bed.

"What time do you get off, I forgot." Tara asked, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand.

"Probably five. It says three, but I doubt that's gonna happen. What time do you get off?" Amber asked, unbuckling her seatbelt as they stopped in the parking lot.

Tara groaned, stretching down her eyelids as she dragged her fingers over her face. "I have… no idea. I think the same time, if douche-bag doesn't make me stay late."

"I'll call you when I get off," Amber said, "now let me get in this place before what's-his-face starts bitching." She hopped out of the beige Crown Victoria, slamming the door behind her as she skipped onto the sidewalk, waving her visor as she went in.

It was nearly ten, then. She barely had time to eat, much less smoke a cigarette. She knew if her boss caught her lighting up in front of the building, he'd have her ass-and not in the good way, either.

Amber fastened her visor just beneath her pigtails, and hurried into the kitchen, greeting Shawn and Quincy on her way to the back.

"Amber, I need to see you in the office." Tony said, stepping in Amber's way.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it." She smiled apprehensively. They went into the office and Tony handed her a piece of paper.

"This was on the desk this morning-a write-up for telling Tasha to _shut the fuck up_?"

"I plead the fifth." Amber said, trying not to talk back, like she had the habit of doing.

"Well, from what I heard, you were _bragging _about cussing her out and getting away with it. What's going on, Amber, this doesn't sound like you."

_I beg to differ. _Amber thought to herself, refraining from smirking.

"Look, I didn't tell her to _shut the fuck up_, I wasn't even talking to her, and I didn't curse, either! Whatever you heard isn't true and I'm not signing that write-up." Amber tossed the paper back onto the desk and folded her arms.

Tony huffed. "Regardless, it doesn't matter whether or not you sign the write-up, it still goes in your file. You're lucky you're getting a write-up for this… you _should _get terminated for insubordination to a manager." He said, jabbing his finger down on the desk, his tone harsh and serious.

"Whatever." Amber rolled her eyes, "I have to clock in."

The day was slow and cyclic-it seemed every time Amber looked at the clock only ten minutes had gone by until it finally reached 4:30 when the next person came in to take her place.

"Tiffany! You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now. You're my current Godsend." Amber rushed around the counter to give her co-worker a hug.

"Let me take a wild guess… I'm taking your spot?" Tiffany smiled.

"No, I'm just hugging you because I decided I like you today." Amber threw her arm around Tiffany's shoulders. "Aw, how sweet of you!" Tiffany said joyfully, sarcastically.

After all had been said and done in the workplace, Amber checked her phone for any texts or missed calls as she slid an arm into her denim jacket, on her way out.

Glad to be finished with work for the day, Amber reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of Newport Lights. Sticking a cigarette between her lips, she began to dial Tara's number when her phone started to ring.

"Who you gonna call?" Amber answered, flicking her Bic with a quick drag of her cigarette.

"Amber! I just woke up." Hannah said from enthusiastic to dull in the same sentence.

"I just got off work, 'sup?"

"I had the _weirdest _dream. It kind of scared the shit out of me… which is weird, 'cause this kind of dream usually makes me giggle and clap like a retarded seal." Hannah said in a serious voice.

"Oh really? Do tell, I'm all ears."

"Well, at first the dream started out pretty cool: I was on the red carpet, meeting all our favorite celebrities, except you weren't there… and I actually met Sam Neill, and took a video of him, so you could see later, and he said "Hey Amber! How you doin'?" and it was _so_ vivid, I could actually hear his voice… but then, everything started to go all wonky."

Amber was in the middle of squealing excitedly. "First off, I hate you for me not being there, second off, I love you for thinking of me when nobody else would. Anyway, go on."

Hannah cleared her throat.

"The red carpet got all squishy and sounded like a sponge when you walked on it, like Rakk Hive in Borderlands… and then I realized it turned into a puddle of blood… and then all the celebrities around me turned into zombies."

"That doesn't sound scary at all." Amber said.

"That's not the part that got to me," Hannah continued. "So, I was weeding through the hoard of zombies, my camera turned into a gun so I started shooting like a mo'fo. I climbed onto a limo and out of nowhere heard this hysterical laughter coming from the crowd of zombies…"

"Oh God, what." Amber took another puff from her cigarette.

"The freakin' mob of zombies split, creating a pathway and somebody was standing there… it was Freddy Krueger. I got all excited wanting to tell you about it but then he said something, I don't really remember but somehow he ended up right next to me and slashed into my arm, and when I woke up, I found the slash marks were still there like in my dream. I thought it was sleep paralysis, 'cause I could still hear him laughing but, dude, the scratches are still here, on my forearm."

"What! No fair! I wanna see." Amber frowned. "That's it, I'm calling Tara. Hopefully her ass is off work so she can come pick me up."

"I would, but I'm too OCD to drive." Hannah said, blankly.

"And I'm just too lazy to get my license."

Hannah sat down on the couch, her laptop staring at her from the coffee-table. The dim illumination of the LCD screen bathed the keyboard in green light, from the website she had been on.

Orion, Hannah's Tabby cat, leapt onto the arm of the couch and padded down the cushions of the back of the couch, and sat behind Hannah's head and played with her hair.

Hannah stared at her cuts curiously, wondering if that maybe Orion, Sam or Penny had done it with their nails-though the cuts were far too deep and long to be cat-scratches, as much as she wished they were.

"Maybe having that Nightmare on Elm Street marathon wasn't the best idea. The aliens are catching on…" Hannah eyed the dark corners of the living room cautiously.

Amber sat on the brick wall that bordered the outside of Walgreen's parking lot, cigarette hanging from her bottom lip as she texted Tara, considering she wouldn't pick up when she had called before. She took her hat off and secured it onto one of her belt-loops so it wouldn't blow off in the wind.

She was bored and had been waiting a good twenty minutes for Tara to answer the phone.

"Maybe Dan's around and can pick me up…" She considered, dialing his number.

"_You have reached cell-phone number-" _Amber hung up. "Great. Guess I'm catching the bus."

Amber took a glance down the boulevard, and saw that the bus had stopped at a red-light a few blocks ahead. "Just in time!" She said, jumping off the brick wall and dodging cars as she crossed the street.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin' piggy!" Somebody yelled, blaring their horn at Amber as she darted from in front of their car. "Piggy? …Creeper. Why don't you watch where _you're _going, _asshole!" _

She made it to the other side of the road, in one piece, just in time for the bus. It stopped, the breaks creaking like metal on a chalkboard.

"Evenin'." The bus driver tipped his hat to her. Amber hadn't paid any mind to him, as she slid her bus-pass through the slot and found herself a seat.

"Next stop, 19th Street and Pacific Avenue." The driver said over the speakers. Amber looked up at the digital marquee in gold letters, flashing _19__th__ and Pacific Ave. _overhead. She pulled the wire, requesting off, as they approached her stop.

Amber stood up, holding onto what she liked to call _the bitch-bar_ opposite of the yellow line. Two people walked inside but before she got the chance to leave, the doors slammed and she found herself sitting back down.

"What the…" Amber trailed off. She looked out the window and they were back across the boulevard from her work. Confused, she pulled the wire again, and again they drew near to where she wanted to get off. Two more people entered the bus, one sat next to her. The bus didn't stop.

"Hey, I need to get off!" Amber called out to the bus driver.

"Sounds like a personal problem to me!" The driver said, his voice went from gentle to guttural.

"No, I do! Stop the bus!" Amber got to her feet and the driver slammed his foot on the breaks; the gravity lifted her from her footing and threw her into the windshield.

"Fuck…" She rubbed her head, and looked up to the blurry figure who was sitting in the driver's seat. She blinked, curious as to why she didn't break her neck from the impact.

Amber saw a metal-plated hand curl over the shift-stick, the sound of metal reverberating on metal made her heart pound. She looked up to see Freddy Krueger looming over her, his lips twisted into a wicked grin. "Have a nice trip, piggy?" He laughed maniacally, leaning back into the driver's seat. He wrenched the shift down and floored it. Amber slid into the back of the bus, hitting her head on the back wall. "Ow! God damn it! What the hell is going on! I'm not asleep!" She cried out, grabbing a hold of whatever sturdy object was within her reach.

Freddy's laughter filled the bus, it rang in Amber's ears. "Next stop, 19th Street and Pacific Avenue!" His voice faded and Amber jerked awake in her seat.

"Holy shit…" She murmured, massaging her sore neck. The bus began to yield before coming to a complete stop. Amber got up and looked around-everything was back to normal. She sprinted through the door, shoving the people waiting at the bus stop out of her way as she jogged down the sidewalk. "Fuck that shit."


	2. It's Not Just a Movie

_Chapter II, It's Not Just a Movie_

The door flung open and slammed into the wall behind it, causing one of the many swords that decorated said wall to fall, inches from where Amber was standing.

Her breath was ragged, black strands of curled hair draped messily over her flushed face.

Hannah was sitting in the middle of the floor in the living room, playing Borderlands on her PlayStation. She was so into the game she didn't even notice Amber coming in.

"Hannah!" Amber kicked the door shut behind her.

"Die! Die! _Die motherfucker_!" Hannah shouted at the TV, thumbing the game controller furiously.

"Hannah, turn the game off, I need to talk to you." Amber stepped in front of her friend. Hannah leaned to the side so she could see past Amber.

"Oh I know you didn't just shoot me." Hannah gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes. The sound of explosives and gunfire filled the room.

Amber sighed and grabbed the controller from Hannah's grasp and paused the game.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" Hannah went to reach for the controller but Amber kicked it across the room.

"Look, something freaky happened today." Amber started, stepping over Orion in her advance to the couch.

"Like what? What could be so important that you had to take my game away from me? I was in the middle of killing Ninetoes… again!" Hannah frowned.

"So, what happened was, I had to catch the bus home because Tara didn't show up… and apparently I somehow fell asleep on the way here, and I dreamt that Freddy was the bus-driver… and when I went to get off the bus he slammed his foot on the breaks so I ended up flying into the windshield… and it hurt. My fucking neck is killing me now."

Amber explained.

Hannah stared at her for a moment.

"Are you saying that you think Freddy has come to life like in the movies… and he's after us now?" Hannah suggested.

"No, I'd stop you from kicking Ninetoes' ass to tell you I had a bad dream and hurt my neck. Yes I'm suggesting that! I mean, after your arm getting torn up like that…" Amber had just then noticed the four cuts that streaked across her forearm.

"Jesus!"

"Yeah, Sam keeps licking them, she wouldn't leave me alone so I locked her in your room." Hannah replied with a smile on her face.

"You know, this would be really fucking cool if he wasn't trying to kill us." Amber tucked the loose hair from her face, behind her ears.

"Maybe you can convince him we're just as crazy and we could join forces!" Hannah picked at the cat hair from her black Ghostbusters shirt.

"Dude, he's evil, he's not going to listen to a bunch of fangirling teenagers."

"Hey! I'm not a teenager, I'm twenty-one." Hannah said, rather pleased with herself.

"Whatever. Tara needs to answer her damn phone."

Tara moaned, going through her trunk. Her phone was dead and she stranded on the side of the road, with a flat tire.

"Why… the hell does this happen to me?" She asked herself, searching for the spare tire that _was_ supposed to be in the trunk. "Bandit's gonna kick my ass…"

Once Tara had shoved all the junk aside, she found that the flooring in the trunk was hollow in the center and that a rather large area of the carpet was detachable from the rest.

_Of course_. She thought to herself, assuming that it must've been a compartment in the trunk where the spare tire was kept.

Tara raked her fingers along the carpet, peeling it up slowly. She leaned forward and examined the obscure aperture. She edged further into the trunk, reaching an arm into the compartment when suddenly something seized her by the wrist. Tara resisted but before she could break herself free of whatever had a hold of her, it pulled her in and the trunk slammed shut behind her.

The next thing Tara knew, she was standing on an old, meager catwalk, the sides confined with rusted handrails. The air was murky and dense with humidity; the overcast of steam from the warren of hissing pipes that besieged her, left the atmosphere a translucent tinge of red.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized where she was.

"Lolly, I'm so going to kill you for this."

Amber gazed vacantly at the virtually bare interior of the refrigerator. "We need to go shopping," she picked up a half-eaten burrito from Taco Bell.

The sun had begun to set as it neared eight o' clock.

"Man, where the hell is Tara? Her phone's off now." Amber slipped her phone into her back pocket and slumped as she sat down on the couch.

Hannah sat cross-legged on the floor, about a foot away from the TV. She was playing Borderlands again, with the volume turned up to its maximum. "Fuck you, midget!" Hannah shouted-the sound of her rapidly pressing the buttons on her game-controller mingled with the barrage of bullets that boomed from the TV speakers.

Amber settled into the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. "Well, what do you wanna do?" She asked, trying to make herself comfortable.

Hannah shrugged.

Amber felt a lump in the cushion beneath her. "The hell do you keep in the couch, Hannah?" She said, sticking her hand in between couch cushions, curious as to what she was sitting on.

"It's probably just old food… or a hairball." Hannah said, her eyes fixated on the TV screen.

Amber delved her arm deeper into the couch. "Maybe it's a million dollars." She laughed, reaching further in. "Wait! I think I got i-" Amber was cut off when she felt something sharp dig into her skin and shrieked as it began to pull her in, until just her feet were writhing in a struggle to get away.

With Hannah's eyes glued to the TV screen, she hadn't the slightest clue that Amber had been sucked into the couch. The faint, muffled sound of her scream echoed in the distance.

"What the hell…" Amber's eyes widened and her mouth fell agape. "How did I get here? I'm still awake." Her voice shivered with fear when she discerned how realistic the heat that licked at her senses felt-and how loud the sound of steaming pipes screeching within her earshot was.

"Hey, hey you! Yeah, you, four eyes."

Hannah recoiled, gawking at one of the midgets in her video game, as it stared her down with a pointed forefinger.

"Okay, I think that means I need to cut down on the Oolong." Hannah rubbed her eye from behind the lens of her glasses.

"I'm not a fucking hallucination, you idiot. Come here." The midget said, his voice high-pitched and wily.

Hannah scooted closer to the TV, holding a reluctant finger up to the screen. "I don't remember this being in the game… I must've been high on codeine, when I played this part."

The midget sighed before pulling out a machine gun from the holster on his back, and aimed it toward Hannah. "Now count to three, Ryman."

"Oh shit!" Hannah jumped to her feet and the midget pulled the trigger, releasing a grappling hook that swung around Hannah's ankles and knocked her down, onto her face.

"Three!" The midget shouted and pulled back his gun like a fishing rod, retracting the rope and dragging Hannah into the TV set. "Amber!" Hannah's hands clasped onto either side of the TV and held on for dear life.

The last thing she saw was the empty couch and tousled seat cushions before she was swallowed whole.


	3. It Takes Three

_Chapter III, It Takes Three_

Amber wandered aimlessly around the vast, metallic wonderland, that she recognized as _the boiler room_. Her voice weaved through the labyrinth of pipes, ghostly resonating against the corroded metal, as she called out her friends.

"Hannah! Tara! Anybody?" She dared, getting the urge to call out Freddy's name, with the undying need to know that she wasn't alone.

"Amber?" Hannah exclaimed, watching her step as she stalked along one of the catwalks.

Tara investigated silently through the hazy mist of the boiler room, afraid of who or _what _she would run into.

"_My children… they were all, my children-and those _mother fuckers _took them away from me! Countless times I've come back, for revenge on the ones who tried to stop me… and this time… this time, they'll wish they never _fucked _with Freddy_._"_ A dark laughter danced against the walls-the fire contained by the furnaces blazed up powerfully.

Amber, Tara and Hannah all bumped into each other in the heart of the boiler room. Tara screamed and jumped back before she realized who she'd ran into.

"Lolly! What the fuck is going on? How did we end up here?" She grabbed her friend by the arm and stared at her with concern.

"Why are you asking me? I didn't do it!" Amber pulled away.

"Great, now Freddy's gonna kill us and I won't be able to kick Tim's ass in Pokemon, again." Hannah grumbled.

Amber and Tara eyed Hannah. "Really?" Amber said, sarcastically.

The familiar sound of something scraping obnoxiously against metal, ensued into earshot. Amber turned around, her shoulders squared off as she stepped away from her two friends.

"Oh, looks like we've got a brave little piggy!" Freddy said, appearing through the profound smog, in front of her. He scoured his blades roughly against the railing as he advanced toward the trio, on the catwalk.

"Amber, is he real?" Tara whispered.

"I think so." Amber replied.

"Find out what he wants so we can go home!" Hannah frowned.

"Ah-ah, you three aren't going anywhere any time soon. I've searched the bowels of hell to find the right one to help me come back-even that numbskull Jason Voorhees couldn't get the job done. I need someone willing to help me… someone who knows who's boss. It took me eight years, but now… now I've found you three."

"So… you want _us_ to help you get your revenge?" Amber arched an eyebrow.

"Revenge that's long… overdue." Freddy hissed.

Amber shrugged. "Sounds good to me." She turned to face her friends. "You down, guys?" Amber asked, as if what was going on wasn't out of the ordinary at all.

Tara and Hannah eyed each other before coming to an agreement.

"I'm too lazy to get revenge, though." Hannah said.

Freddy chuckled and flexed his gloved hand, the sound of his bladed fingers clanging caught the trio's attention. "You don't have a choice."

"So, what do we have to do?" Amber immediately asked, sounding almost excited.

Freddy walked over to her and put his left arm around her shoulders. He raised his right arm and lifted his forefinger in the air. He drew a line in the air with the blade, creating a fissure, in midair. It expanded into a gaping hole and the image of a blond haired girl appeared within it.

Amber sucked in air through her teeth-she knew who the girl was, and so did Hannah and Tara, who were ogling the mysterious chasm that materialized before them.

Freddy smiled. He could feel Amber's reaction surge through him. "You want her dead almost as much as I do, don't you?" He purred.

"Are you _kidding_ me? She fucking_ chopped your head off!_ That bitch has it coming." She cracked her knuckles.

"Oh boy…" Tara rolled her eyes.

"See," Freddy started, touching a blade to the surface of the girl's image, to be greeted with an electrical buzz and blue sparks. "I'm not strong enough yet. After she destroyed my physical body, I became weak again, here on _my_ turf. That bitch is mine, and I'm going to take my time slicing up her pretty little face." He smirked, bringing his bladed fingers to Amber's face, then.

Amber frowned. "The only way to make you stronger is to make people fear you, right?"

"Like that's gonna happen." Tara sighed.

"Yeah, nobody's gonna be afraid of you Freddy. They all think you're just a movie-character."

"Why… must you guys say _stupid_ shit when there's pointy things inches from my face?" Amber narrowed her eyes, staring at her friends.

"Oh, but you see… there aren't any movies." Freddy said, his smile widening.

"What?" Amber asked.

"What you three know as movies, are actually your _memories_." Freddy tapped a finger on Amber's forehead.

"What are you talking about?" Tara said.

"You were test subjects in an experiment the doctors at Westin Hills were taking a… stab at. They developed a new drug called Propranolol that suppresses traumatic memories. You three were young when they tried it out on you." Freddy explained.

"I don't remember any doctors, other than my usual check ups." Amber said.

"Exactly. You know how you had to take Benadryl before bed every night or else you wouldn't be able to sleep?" Freddy whispered.

"You can't be serious." Amber backed away, shocked.

"Oh, but I am." Freddy assured her.

"Not only did they taint you with that fucking drug, they pumped you up with Hypnocil too. Every single one of those little powder filled capsules has enough Hypnocil and Propranolol in them to keep me away… and you three were the only ones they used it on in combination with the Hypnocil." Freddy growled.

Hannah thought for a second. "Well, that doesn't explain all the stuff we have, like dolls and posters and stuff."

"Yeah!" Tara chimed in.

"You think that all those things are real, but it's all in your head. The drugs are keeping you in denial of what happened, eight years ago." Freddy said.

"What about our other friends who know about you?" Amber asked.

"They're in on it." Freddy snarled in response.

"So… everything we grew up with was a lie?" Tara sounded sad.

"Enough with the questions. I need you to find that _bitch_ Lori. I need you to spread fear among all those little brats that thought they could escape… Freddy's back, for good." Freddy snapped his fingers and Amber awoke in a cold sweat on the living room couch.

"Oh… my God." Amber sat up, placing her hand on her forehead. The room was spinning and Amber felt as though she were hit upside the head with a shovel. Her neck was stiff when she went to move it.


	4. Insidious

_Chapter IV, Insidious_

"Damn." She forced her head to turn and her neck made a ghastly cracking noise.

"Dude, Lolly!" Tara came running from her room, nearly tripping over Amber's work shoes.

"Huh?" Amber squinted one eye as she attempted to see her friend clearly without her glasses on.

"I had the most insane dream last night!" Tara said, sitting on the coffee table.

"Oh great." Amber groaned, slowly leaning back into the couch. She had the unsettling feeling that what _she_ dreamt last night wasn't just a dream.

Tara went on explaining eloquently how vivid her dream was-how Hannah and Amber were both a part of it, how they were each pulled into the boiler room to meet Freddy where he spoke of his astute plans to reap vengeance on _"that chick from Freddy VS Jason!"_ She shrieked avidly, jumping to her feet to pace around the table.

Amber looked up at her friend with unease. "I need a cigarette." She said before slowly getting up and digging into the pocket of her denim jacked that lied in a heap on the arm of the couch.

"I… don't think it was _just_ a dream, Tara." She poked a Newport between her lips and lit it. She took a long, dramatic drag from her cigarette before sighing out a cloud of smoke.

Tara stared at Amber questioningly. "What are you, crazy?"

"No, I'm serious. I had the _exact _same dream, and I bet Hannah did too. I don't think Freddy's lying."

"Why not? It's not unlike him. If he really_ is _real, then he's probably just fucking with us so he can kill us later." Tara said.

"It's not like we can avoid it either way,_ if _he's real, so why not go along with it? Nobody ever ended up surviving in the_ movies_, so it won't do anything but buy us some time if we try to stop him. I say we do it… 'cause I hate that blond bimbo anyway."

"We don't have anything to lose." Amber's words were followed by a ribbon of smoke that slithered from her lips.

"Amber!" Hannah shouted from the hallway as she tripped over her own feet as she ran into the living room. "Let me guess: you had this insane dream last night, I was in it, Tara was in it, blah-blah-blah." Amber rolled her eyes and bobbed her head side to side.

"We know. Now… we just got to figure out how to find this Lori bitch." Amber pulled out her phone from her back pocket and checked her messages.

"That should be easy for you, Lolly. You're great at stalking." Tara said, gesturing her hand toward Amber with a smile.

"Yeah!" Hannah agreed before quickly falling into a cross legged sitting position on the floor.

"Oh shit… what's today?" Amber asked with a rushed tone.

"Monday?" Tara said.

"Oh, good I'm off today." Amber exhaled in relief.

"Let me get my laptop and see what I can find on Lori… if I can even remember her last name."

"Wait, I have a question." Hannah said before Amber got up.

"If those drugs are in the Benadryl you've been taking then how come we dreamt about Freddy last night?" She pried.

"You know what…" Amber ran a hand over her messy hair.

"I bet it's because the past week or so I've been taking Motrin PM instead. That's probably why."

"That doesn't explain why all three of us dreamt of him. Aren't we all pumped full of Hypnocil and Propranolol?" Tara questioned.

"Well, maybe it only took one of us for him to get to all of us." Amber replied, shrugging.

Tara and Hannah followed Amber into her room. Amber jumped onto her bed after grabbing her laptop from her desk. "Let's see… what was her last name…" Amber tapped her forefinger on her chin, thinking deeply.

"What was it…"

Her thoughts raced as she tried to remember when it suddenly hit her. She searched Lori

Campbell on White Pages, for Springwood, Ohio.

Lori jerked awake, kicking the covers from her curvaceous form.

"Whoa, hey, are you ok?" Will's tender voice promptly calmed Lori from her waking struggle.

"Yeah, just a bad dream…" She replied, motioning toward the bottle of Hypnocil that she kept on her nightstand. "I guess it wore off." Lori complained, her voice rough and groggy.

"Lori, you need to stop worrying. He's not coming back… it's been eight years. He's dead and gone, for good." Will assured her, petting her disheveled blond hair

"I know." Lori forced herself to smile and nodded. She slid her legs from beneath the blanket and stood up.

"Want me to make you breakfast?" Will offered, getting out of bed to meet her at the bedroom door. "Okay," Lori agreed.

"Holy shit, she still lives there…" Amber eyed the address on her computer screen.

"On Elm Street?" Tara asked, edging closer over Amber's shoulder to get a better view of her laptop.

"God bless the white pages." Amber gave her computer a quick peck on the screen before folding it shut.

"So, how're we gonna get there?" Hannah queried, toeing at her flipflops.

"My phone has a GPS on it, no big deal." Amber smiled wide, holding her phone up for her friends to see.

"Hold up. What exactly does Freddy want us to do when we get there?" Tara gave Amber a look of inquisition as she sat down on the bed, her legs folded beneath her.

Amber paused for a moment and thought about Tara's question. "Well, he said he wants us to spread fear… so, maybe we need to do something to remind her of where her place is on the food chain." She smirked.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Hannah had more sarcasm in her tone than genuine speculation.

"Well," Amber started. "I'm going to assume that Lori's still taking Hyponocil on a daily basis… so what we need to do first is take that shit away from her. How we're going to do that, I have no idea… but then, we need to send her a little message… and I'm not talkin' about pulling some stupid prank. I mean we need to get our message across, that we mean business… that _Freddy_ means business."

"Like?" Tara leaned in further with more curiosity.

"I don't know." Amber sighed.

"This is kind of hard to do… you know, if we don't want to get caught anyway." Hannah pursed her lips.

"I really can't think of anything, you guys. We need to brainstorm."

"Oh! What if… we get to the people who don't know about Freddy? Maybe we could get our message across… if Freddy starts killing again. Then after Lori's scared shitless, we can get to her." Tara said.

"Good idea… Freddy did say we needed to spread fear. That is technically part of the plan." Amber grinned.

"Okay, so, how are we gonna scare people? Tell them that a crazy guy who looks like a burnt up pizza in a Christmas sweater is gonna stab them in their dreams with his finger-knives?" Hannah laughed at herself.

"Hey!" Amber frowned briefly before an insidious initiative dug at the inner core of her mind. "Hey Hannah," she began, a smile curving along her full lips.

"Yeah?" Hannah looked at Amber with interest.

"Kam doesn't know about Freddy, does he?" Amber's smile bloomed into an outright malicious grin. Hannah smirked-she knew exactly what Amber had in mind.

"Why don't we make a phone call?" Amber proposed, her iniquitous stare pin-balled between Hannah and Tara. "Let's strike some fear up in him like a match."

"Should be easy, Kam's a pussy as it is." Hannah giggled excitedly.

"Hello?" Kameran answered, intrigued by the blocked number that appeared on his caller ID.

"One, two… Freddy's coming for you…" Tara replied, her voice pitched high like a little girl's, as she tried not to laugh.

"Who's this?" Kameran said, becoming frustrated.

"Three, four… better lock your door." Amber said, gripping the phone close to her mouth, her voice barely even a whisper as she sang the jump rope rhyme oh-so eerily.

Kameran hung up with an aggravated sigh.

The three girls giggled at his reaction. "Okay, let's give it five minutes, then we'll call back." Amber had the adept look of victory on her face.

"Five, six, grab your crucifix…" Tara and Amber sang in unison, their childlike voices made the hair on the nape of Kameran's neck stand up straight.

"Leave me alone!" He hung up again, and again they called to sing another verse of the limerick.

"Seven, eight… gonna stay up late!" Hannah joined Amber and Tara, that time.

Kameran didn't say anything before he hung up, that time.

"Nine…" Amber whispered. "Ten," Tara hissed. "Never sleep again." The three purred tauntingly before they heard the click that came before the dial tone.

They'd gone an hour before calling again to shout _"Freddy!" _into the phone. Amber made sure to call a few times with a blood-curdling scream and hanging up before Kameran got the chance to.

"Freddy's back!" Amber screeched into the phone. That was the last time they'd called that night.

"Well, I think we got the message across… hopefully Freddy'll be proud." Amber smiled lucratively as she lied back on the couch. They spent their entire day in the house, torturing Hannah's self-proclaimed friend with creepy phone calls, spaced out through the afternoon and evening.

Kameran sat in the opaque repression of his bedroom; the only source of light glowed conspicuously from his computer monitor, with an alabaster fluorescence that washed over the surface of his desk. It was nearing 3:00 in the morning and the monotonous whirr of the air conditioner subsequently droned into the only thing he could hear-the tune of that spine-chilling song his prank caller's had badgered him with earlier in the day, played through his mind like a broken record.

His eyes narrowed into glinting slits that reflected the images on the computer screen as he strived to stay awake-in tandem with paying close attention to the gay porn he had been ogling for over an hour.

He was palming the crotch of his jeans roughly as he scrolled through the vulgar display of pornography. However exhausted from lack of sleep for well over twenty-four hours due to a project he had previously been working on for college, Kameran was well-determined to finish what he had started. He slipped a hand into his jeans and licked his lips just as he clicked on a video. His eyelids were getting heavier but his adrenalin was pumping, particularly as the video started and the sound of two middle-aged men moaning climactically reverberated against the thin walls of his room.

Suddenly, a new window popped up on Kameran's internet browser and the loud keening of the two fornicating thespians was deluged by a scraping tenor that perforated Kameran's ears.

A blurry specter of a silhouette began to form within the blank page that had imposed on Kameran's lewd activity. His stare then fixated on the shadow that constituted itself into a man.

"Oh, am I interrupting?"

Kameran's eyes grew wide with awe as the man reached out from his monitor, to reveal himself with a twisted smile.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kameran shouted, yanking his hand from the restriction of his pants.

"Your worst nightmare," Freddy's raving laughter inundated anything within earshot as he swiped his blades across Kameran's shirt, leaving four razor-straight slashes in their course.

Kameran fell out of his computer chair, and when he looked back up to the monitor, Freddy was gone. He let out a sigh of relief only for his next breath to hitch in his throat as something from behind lifted him from the ground and threw him into the wall. Kameran hit the wall face first, his nose breaking on impact.

"You know what they say about doing that, don't you Kam?" Freddy cackled, flipping Kameran around by the shoulder, so that they were face to face.

"It'll make you go blind!"

He drove his fore and middle-bladed fingers into Kameran's eyes, plunging the knives deep into his skull. The sound of his blades gritting against bone was the last thing Kameran heard before he slumped into a lifeless heap onto the floor.

Freddy tore his hand away from the fresh cadaver; Kameran's lifeless body lied flaccid and the blood from his gouged eye sockets accumulated around his face in a pool on the floor.

"This, is just the beginning." Freddy trilled, flexing his metal fashioned hand.


	5. Another Victim

**Author's Note: **Sorry I haven't updated in a couple weeks… I've been preoccupied with work. However, I am happy to announce that I'm already working on Chapter VI, so hang tight. It's going to be awesome, trust.

_Chapter V, Another Victim_

"Dude, hurry the fuck up!" Amber pounded her fist on the bathroom door.

"I'm bruffing mh teef!" Tara shouted over the rushing sound of running water from the sink.

"Damn it, I have to piss!" Amber broke into the bathroom, clad in a black t-shirt that accented David Bowie in Goblin King drag on the front, and plain white underwear.

"The fuck?" Tara said, toothpaste foaming around her lips as she spoke.

She tore down her underwear and sat down on the toilet. "I don't give a shit, I had to go." Amber sighed, emptying her bladder. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Quarter to eleven," Tara spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth.

"Aw, damn! I'm gonna be late!" Amber jumped to her feet, quickly wiping herself before she pulled up her underwear. "You're giving me a ride, right?" She said, hurriedly as she began to put her hair up into a ponytail.

"What? No! I have to go to work, too."

"I don't care, I need a ride." Amber darted into her room, where she quickly slipped into her uniform-making sure her eyebrows were drawn on evenly before exiting her room, shoes in hand as she trotted out into the living room.

"Hey," Hannah shouted, stopping Amber in her tracks. "What time do you guys get off?"

"Eight, for me." Amber replied, sticking her visor into her mouth as she hopped on one foot, trying to get her shoes on.

"Why?" Tara asked, combing her hair back and pinning it into a bun.

"I need a ride to work, later." Hannah was threading a needle, when she asked-a green, plush fabric draped over her lap.

"What are you making, now?" Amber asked, her hat still between her teeth.

"A Gir plushie, from Invader Zim."

"What time do you need to be at work?" Tara had stuck a pin in her mouth as she fiddled with her hair.

"Four," Hannah finally had gotten the thread through the eye of the needle when she replied.

"I don't get off until five." Tara frowned.

"I guess I'll just get Breanna to take me." Hannah shrugged, carefully aligning the needle an exact quarter-inch from the edge of the fabric, where she pierced it and began to sew.

Amber adjusted herself until her feet were placed comfortably in her shoes. She put her hat on, acknowledging that she had about ten minutes before she had to clock in.

"Can we go, before Tony starts his shit about me being on time, again?" She motioned toward the door. Tara sighed, "see you later, Hannah." and walked out the door.

When they got into the car, Amber had grabbed the keys from Tara and started the engine.

"Doing the speed limit is not part of today's agenda, ok?" Amber fastened herself in, rushing Tara to get in and go. "The last thing I need is to be stuck around my boss, when he's in a bad mood because I'm late… for nine hours straight."

Tara backed out of the driveway and sped down the road.

Once Tara dropped Amber off at work, she sped along the boulevard, weeding through the strings of traffic that adorned the streets. She began to scold herself as the clock kept on ticking even though she had yet to arrive at _her_ work.

"Did you hear?" Shawn met Amber with a curious expression as she rushed to the door.

"Hear what?" Shawn followed Amber to the back of the kitchen as she rummaged through the timecard box.

"Leon passed away last night," Shawn whispered, aware of the open ears around them.

"What?" Amber dropped the handful of timecards back into the box, her mouth agape with sheer disbelief. "Please tell me you're talking about tooth fairy Leon."

Shawn shook her head.

"Oh my God…" Amber brought her hand to her mouth to titivate her shocked façade.

"Rumor has it, that he was murdered or something… in his sleep. Kinda creepy, if you ask me… considering that kid on the news." Shawn commented, disregarding Amber's reaction.

"Wait, what kid on the news?"

"Do you live under a rock or something?"

Amber rolled her eyes.

"Some kid was found dead in his room, last night. His eyes were gouged out and he was laying in a pool of his own blood."

"I hope this is just coincidental." Amber mumbled as she returned to the box of timecards.

Shawn motioned toward Amber as she began to walk away, toward the front counter. Amber ignored Shawn's nosy gestures behind her whilst she clocked in, from one of the registers. The constant beeping from the fryer timers kept Amber in a daze for most of the day, fantasizing about who she'd lead Freddy to next. She already had someone in mind-someone she'd hated with a passion. Her mind continued to wander until the repetitive ding on Amber's headset from whenever a car would drive up to the speaker, began to fade until she'd completely tuned it out.

"Amber, what is wrong with you today? I know it's hot in here, but you're acting like you can barely function." Christina had tapped Amber on the shoulder, snapping her out of her murderous daydream.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I just have a lot on my mind." Amber glanced up at the screen to see what drinks needed to be made for the car at the window.

"You gonna take the order?" Christina urged, getting impatient as she bagged a small fry and a handful of catsup.

"Sorry," Amber really was out of it-to the extent of hallucinating the paper cups with red and green stripes, fading into each other.

"Hi, can I take your order?" Amber began the cyclic phrase as each car placed an order and drove up to the window for their food.

The idea of Freddy killing one of her enemies, so to speak, still mingled silently in the back of her mind-occasionally tempting her back into a fleeting reverie.

"Are you ok?" Christina waved a hand in front of Amber's face.

Amber paused for a moment, thinking up a response. "Yeah, my stomach's just bothering me. I feel kind of sick." She seemed tentative as she first began to speak, however gradually submerging herself into her own lie as it trailed from her lips with a lackadaisical composure.

"Are you gonna be able to work?" Christina eyed her curiously.

"I… don't know." Amber took the bait with caution. "I keep feeling like I want to throw up."

Christina sighed, she knew what Amber was getting at, and she was not happy, to say the least.

Meanwhile, in between taking orders, Amber had snuck out her phone. She knew exactly who to introduce Freddy to, and she was so enticed by the simple idea that she had to find an excuse to get off work early.

Amber began to gag. She clutched her stomach and hunched over, putting on a dramatic show for sickness. Christina rolled her eyes, and everyone's attention around the kitchen was drawn to Amber, who without thinking twice made a run for the bathroom. She tore her headset from her ears and threw it to the counter on her way out of the kitchen. She knew how important it was that her performance was believable, so she made it count.

Once she made it to the bathroom, she locked herself in the handicap stall. With her phone in hand, she quickly texted Hannah, whilst making vomiting noises for the benefit of whoever happened to pass by.

"I need you to go into Tara's room and get her tarot cards. I'll be home soon." Amber sent the text and flushed the toilet. She exited the stall and turned on the faucet at the sink, wetting her hand and dabbing the water all over her face. When she reentered the kitchen, she made sure to make herself look like hell.

"Oh shit, Amber, are you alright?" Christina asked.

Amber shook her head slowly, her breathing labored as she held her stomach with one hand. "I can't… I have to go home." She acted as if she were about to gag again.


End file.
